


I've Got You Under My Skin

by Squeemish



Series: Lizard Love Prompts From The Tumblr [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU, Angst, Because Jadzia is alive and well in this fic taking place during season 7, Dancing, M/M, Pretentious Writing, Sadness, The Worm is so alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:17:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13305444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeemish/pseuds/Squeemish
Summary: Dialogue prompt: "Dance with me."The war against the Dominion nears it's conclusion, and the crew have a night out together to lift up the spirits. Julian invites Garak to come along.





	I've Got You Under My Skin

**54\. “Dance with me.”**

 

 

Of course he knew where Garak’s shop was. Knew it very well. The plan had been to walk by, ignore it and continue his merry way to the holosuite with Miles. Yet he’d looked. One tiny flick of his eyes, and there was Garak, alone in his shop, sewing under a halo of light. Beside him, Miles grumbled.

”Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He gave Julian’s shoulder a shove. ”Go.”

For a moment Julian thought the issue ought to be argued, but Miles’ thunderous glare made him turn around and walk toward the familiar shop, anxiety fluttering along his insides. 

The door was open. Drawing in a deep breath, Julian knocked on the wall next to it.

“Garak?”

“Hm?” Bleary, Garak looked up from his work. There was a pause, long enough to be noticed before Garak’s eyes lit up with awareness, accompanied by a polite grin.

“Ah! Good evening, Doctor.”

“Evening.” Julian dropped his gaze to the floor. How to say what he wanted to say without giving the wrong impression? ”I was– I was wondering if you’d like to join us in Vic’s?” 

Garak tilted his head and blinked.

“Everyone is going.” He explained quickly, “Dax, Odo, Miles and Keiko… Kind of a last night together sort of thing. Well. I suppose all nights could be that now…”

Garak’s expression remained unchanged as he rambled, and with each word the awkward distance between them rang sharp and clear. They used to be so attuned to one another; of one mind, ideas flowing between them in an endless stream of thoughts. He’d liked it. The comfort of routine their little get togethers had given him. Now the ease and comfort of their arguments could only be found when surrounded by others, their presence a necessary guide and restriction on their topics. A chore. Something to get through. It bothered him _. _ It bothered him a great deal, but he’d accepted it, as a by product of the war. It affected Garak more than it did him, but once it ended, all would return to normal. Or closer to normal, anyway.

“I’ll consider it. Thank you, Doctor.” The way Garak said it, polite and precise, made Julian quite certain of the outcome of his consideration. Julian swallowed down his disappointment. He had no right to expect more.

Julian nodded, and unable to think of anything else to say, did it again, before fleeing back to a very grumpy looking Miles.

Garak did appear, eventually. Julian spotted him after a while, talking with Odo in a dark corner, where he’d undoubtedly waited to be found. Why announce his presence when Julian would find him anyway? Waste of fun, that. When Julian asked Miles for him and Keiko to come with him to see Garak, he laughed, though Keiko did scold him for it, and led to a mention about bonsai trees. At that point, Julian decided it best to leave them to bicker by themselves, and sneaked toward Odo and Garak, drink in hand.

Odo noticed him first, but didn’t seem to alert Garak, continuing their conversation as if Julian weren’t there. Perhaps he was intruding, but he’d invited Garak. It was only polite to say hello at least.

“You came.” said Julian once he was close enough to be heard.

Garak turned around, smirking. 

“It does seem so, doesn’t it?”

Cardassians were naturally striking; the ridges on their faces beautiful in their symmetry and elegance, accentuated beneath the hazy lights of the club. With Garak, it was his eyes that caught your attention. Sharp and mischievous, observing you from under the heavy brows. A shiver of a memory itched the back of Julian’s neck, of the moment they’d first met. He’d felt flayed then, the first time that gaze had found him, as if it could pick apart his mind and find the secrets hidden within.

Odo cleared his throat and nodded at Garak.

Oh no.

“Excuse me.” He said, gave Julian a look and wandered off, probably to find Kira. Julian opened his mouth to plead, to beg him to stay, but Odo was long gone before he could even form a proper thought to make the words.

_ Oh no _ .

Being left alone with Garak wasn’t at all what he’d wished to achieve. Well, technically they weren’t alone, the room was filled with people, which was why he’d dared to invite Garak in the first place. Crowds were safe ground. Yet he’d ended up huddled in a private corner with him. To get away from it would mean either leaving Garak alone, or luring him to mingle with the rest of his friends. The former wasn’t acceptable, while the problem with the latter was that the Cardassian to be lured was the plain, simple Garak, a creature capable of great suspicion.

He had to fix this. Immediately.

Within the small crowd, Julian sought out Dax, and widened his eyes at her in panic. They’d saved each other countless times, and whenever he made  _ the face _ , Julian fully expected to be rescued within a few seconds. But not tonight. Jadzia took one look at Garak and then shook her head, grinning as she leaned in to kiss Worf’s cheek, and winked. Julian glared. Traitor.

From the corner of his eye, Julian sneaked a peek at Garak, careful to avoid his eyes. Was his outfit new? No, Julian was certain he’d seen it before, perhaps Garak just hadn’t worn it in a while. The neckline was different, though. Lower.

Laughter broke out over something Vic said, and the music finally began.

_ “I’ve got you under my skin _

_ I have got you deep in the heart of me _

_ So deep in my heart, you’re really a part of me _

_ And I’ve got you under my skin…” _

All the couples moved away from the tables to the open floor and started dancing, few of them not romantic couples, but friends and one pair of siblings as well. Julian glowered at Jadzia a little more as he sipped his champagne.

“Well then.” He said, proud of the casual tone he’d managed to muster. The half of a drink left in his glass might be enough to politely hide behind for another minute or ten. They could get through the evening, friendship intact.

“Indeed.”

Julian stilled as a sick feeling swelled in his stomach. All it took was one word for Garak to destroy any illusions Julian might have had of himself as a decent human being. Indeed, he was far from one, further and further as the war continued. This discomfort and strangeness? It wasn’t supposed happen, not with Garak. He’d been so careful not to taint what they had, to encourage the friendship and push away the flutters of infatuation whenever they surfaced, for the sake of them both. It was a lesson he’d learned from Miles and Jadzia; how much stronger and better friendship felt compared to the alternative, how it took away the pressure of achievement. To move in together, get married, abandon your career, have kids. With friends, one could just exist. There were no expectations beyond company, freely given, not taken.

It was what he wanted that with Garak too. Something that would last, and give. Not take.

Across the room, her head perched on Worf’s shoulder, Jadzia smiled at Julian and waggled her brows. He would kill her. Fuming, Julian gulped down his drink and slammed the empty glass on the nearest counter, a bit forcefully. Garak stared and blinked at him, confused. Julian drew in a deep breath and let it out in resigned sigh, along with words he would very likely come to regret.

“Dance with me.”

Garak bristled and eyed the dancers on the other side of the room with great suspicion.

“I don’t know–”

“Oh, come now Mr. Garak.” Julian grabbed Garak by his wrist and dragged him over to the dancing side of the room. As Julian properly took his hand, so that they were pressed palm to palm, Garak’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, only to snap back shut at Julian’s frown.

“Alright,” Julian said with a determined huff, “Your hand goes on my shoulder like so,” he guided Garak’s arm as he explained and placed his own hand lightly on Garak’s waist. “And then you just go where I take you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. All you need to do is trust me.” Julian muttered under his breath, overly serious and quirked his brow. Garak chuckled, the sound familiar and good, eased away some of the tension and Julian’s smile was genuine as he lead them through the first tentative steps.

To Julian’s pleasant surprise, Garak did seem to try and trust him, between the few sneaky glances at their feet. Narrowing his eyes, Julian tried to step on Garak’s toes a few times, only for him to smoothly prevent each attempt. Caught and aware, Garak met Julian’s playful glare with a grin.

“A bit simplistic.” He said, as if he were a great expert, charmed by the lowly habits of Terrans. Julian rolled his eyes as he sighed, fond.

“That’s the point. The steps are simple, so anyone can do it.” Garak made a face at that, and glanced over at Rom and Leeta, clumsily swaying off beat not far from them. Neither seemed particularly bothered by it, and Julian shrugged. “In theory anyway.”

Garak gave a bemused hum and Julian bit his lip to hide a chuckle. Funny, how fast the mood around them had shifted. Jadzia might live after all.

“Skill isn’t that important really.“ Julian added as he guided them past other dancers, to a more secluded corner, “As long as there’s music and you’re sort of moving to it, you’re dancing.”

“How very Terran.”

“Cardassians do dance don’t they?”

“We do,” Garak said, an amused twinkle in his eye, “But not  _ quite _ like this.”

“Oh? What’s so different?”

Garak said nothing, but his eyes briefly paused on their joined hands, before he flicked them back up. It was then Julian felt the heat of Garak’s palm, warmed by his own, and quickly looked away. The skin there prickled, and beneath it Julian’s pulse thrummed.

“You lead now.” He whispered. A small nod, and Garak’s hand trailed down his back and onto his waist, and as it moved, Julian’s eyes fluttered shut. Pleasant shivers burst along the warm path Garak had drawn, and coiled around his limbs, made them heavy and loose. Leaning his head against Garak’s, Julian sighed, close enough to Garak’s ear for him to have heard it. He didn’t dare look at Garak, couldn’t speak when his arm wound further around Julian and pulled him close.

With only his right hand on Garak’s shoulder, Julian felt unsteady, the other hand nearly numb from the tight grip around it. Trembling a little, he guided their joined hands lower, to his waist, where he pressed Garak’s hand to join the other. Garak remained silent until Julian placed his freed hand on his chest. A gasp. Julian felt and heard it, the sharp intake of breath, as he spread his fingers apart and slowly slid his hand across Garak’s body.

_ “I have tried so, not to give in _

_ I’ve said to myself this affair it never would go so well _

_ But why should I try to resist when I know so well _

_ That I’ve got you under my skin” _

He didn’t think. His mind drowned in sensations; the air in his lungs, in Garak’s, around and over them, pushing in and out and of them. The music, the intricate stitches under his hand, the warm, faint scent of Garak’s hair. The heat. On his skin, under it. He found the neckline, traced the tips of his fingers along its decorative seam, the dark fabric smooth and almost as cool as the skin beneath. Some kind of silk, he guessed. The shirt was made so that the hollow of Garak’s throat was left barely visible. Did Kardasi have a better name for it? He should ask Garak...

Julian curled his fingers, so that they dipped inside the shirt. He wrinkled it into his fist, knuckles now pressed against Garak’s collarbone as they swayed in place. Julian squeezed the fabric, clung to it, clung to Garak, mostly held up by the arms around him, warm and firm.

_ “I would sacrifice anything come would might _

_ For the sake of having you near _

_ In spite of a warning voice, that comes in the night and repeats in my ear _

_ Don’t you know you fool you never can win…” _

Once his feet landed on Cardassia again, Garak would not leave voluntarily. He wasn’t like Julian, rootless and free of the burdens of soil. But Julian would remain here, on the station, as an officer of Starfleet, a privilege he’d been given despite the deceit. He had to stay. For others like him, he had to stay, and prove to the world he was worthy. That other could be too. His home was on Deep Space 9, would be till a transfer was eventually granted. Surely many captains would be nothing but eager to have an augment on board their ship.

It could happen. One day. Good things happened, no matter what Garak thought, and the bleakness would fade in time. Who knew what the universe had in store for them? Cardassia could be freed. Garak would at last return home, and find happiness among his people and culture. Soon enough someone would fall for him, someone good and kind, someone who could give and be given to. And through it all, Julian would remain his friend, give whatever he could to see him on Cardassia, standing in a garden of his own making, surrounded by family and loved ones. Happy. The way he’d always deserved to be.

_ "Use your mentality, wake up to reality _

_ And each time I do _

_ Just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin _

_ Because I've got you under my skin” _

The song ended, and people clapped till another one started. He’d forgotten about them, Julian realised, the rest of the crew in the room, laughing and dancing around them. His cheeks burned. Had they seen–

“Julian.”

Tears stung his eyes. Did he have to sound so sad? Say his name like it was the end of everything, a word of meaning instead of a person. Reluctantly, Julian lifted his head up to look into Garak’s sharp blue eyes. In them he saw an ache, the same one that had hollowed out a place within him years ago. A place that would only ever exist for him, as a reminder of the part he played in shaping him. He tightened his hold of the shirt, wrung out of shape by now.   

I love you. I love you in a way I’ve yet to love another, and whatever happens, wherever you go, whoever else we meet, I won’t forget how I loved you.

He loosened his grip, and let go.

 

“Doctor?”

Julian blinked.

“Hm?”

Quark gave him a look and pushed forward a glass of kanar.

“It’s on the house.”

Julian frowned at the offer, wary of Quark’s unusual generosity, but possibly too tired to care. Kanar was a strange looking drink, unappealing even. The thick consistency of it resembled milk, and the light blue colour unusual from Terran perspective. It wasn’t how it looked, but the expectations that came with its appearance. The soft texture and colour, if Julian remembered correctly, were poor indicators of the actual taste, which made it all the more shocking.

Next to him Morn began nodding off, and Quark snatched the glass from his hand before it went slack with sleep. He then placed a tiny purple pillow on the counter, for Morn to plant his face in, which he did, with gurgling snore.

“Do you hate us? The Federation?” Julian asked. Quark scoffed, and went to whip out a rag from the back room. He dropped it on the counter with a smack and began cleaning around Morn’s head.

“Depends on the day. I guess you’re a little bit closer to being the good people rather than the bad. Just wish you’d shut up about it already.”

Julian twirled the kanar in its glass. A faint ache throbbed behind his eyes, not helped by the small, swirling vortex he felt compelled to stare at. The light blue colour was quite beautiful. Not the most appetising in a beverage, but very nice in other places.

“Why are you still here?” He looked up at Quark with narrowed eyes. “Surely Rom could’ve arranged something else for you?

“Where the best profit goes, I go. Simple as that.”

“And the best profit is  _ here _ ?” Julian quirked a skeptical brow and sniffed the kanar. The odour stung his nose much like frosty air. A strange quality in a drink made by a heat loving species.

“I would know where profit is. You don’t. Besides, I happen to like it here.” Quark grinned. “But why are you here? Cardassia too hot for you?”

Julian hung up his head with a sigh. They’d become quite good friends, Quark and Garak, hadn’t they? That might explain the free drink. Seemed likely he’d be dead by morning if he dared a taste.

Quark let out an annoyed huff. “Cheer up, Doctor. The war is over, and I’m sure there’ll be someone nice and scaly for you to chase soon enough.”

Julian tapped the glass with his fingernails. Was it conceited to be broken by someone else’s pain? Quark had a point, Julian had very little reason to feel sorry for himself, claim sorrows belonging to those actually affected by them. Cardassia didn’t benefit from it. The Cardassians left to survive didn’t benefit from it. Neither did he.

“Stop wallowing and carry on?” He whispered, more to himself and took a sip of his drink. It stung his mouth, a bit like too strong mint might, and yet it also felt hot and sweet.

“Wallow all you like, as long as you drown those sorrows in my bar.” Quark leaned in. “For a barkeeper, there’s no better business than heartbreak.”

He moved to scrub another spot and continued.

“I am quite fortunate, actually. Plenty of people, like you, are in a dire need of a good pair of ears to unburden themselves, and consume a lot of alcohol while doing it. You know what the best thing is?”

“What?”

“No Odo. No more of his noseying about, ruining my business.” Quark cleaned the counter vigorously, “No Rom…”

Quark tossed the rag aside and slumped down onto the counter.

“…And no Odo.”

Julian knocked back his drink, and barely held in a gag as it singed his mouth and throat. Horrendous stuff. Truly horrendous.

He pushed the glass forward, and let Quark fill it up to the brim.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [The song Vic sings](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH-ohAYoUsw)
> 
> This was supposed to be a fun little prompt. Instead it's this. Enjoy? To be honest, I will once again edit this come morning. Sorry.
> 
> Thank you for the prompter, I hope this was a satisfying read :D 
> 
> EDIT: I fixed a few things! So if you saw it on tumblr and wonder why it's better now, that's why <3 
> 
>  
> 
> [Mah Tumblerino](https://i-am-a-bit-squeemish.tumblr.com/)


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